In Warren's most recent entry (Seen Here) he mentions two stories and says that there were not any more...

But he was wrong.

Here's the third one:

Pleasure

I had Buddha's blood all over my mouth. It felt good. It felt right. The sound of the hollow, shining wind chimes was dead and awful now that they were packed with chunks of lung. But I liked it. A man should be treated properly when he needs a drink, even in Heaven's garden. The nice little Buddhist people ran away, clutching their vegan snacks. I uprooted three bo trees with a flick of my steaming loins, bit them in half and fired the pieces out at them with my rippling tongue-muscles. I cut their skin off as they died, because I knew I'd be needing toilet paper later.

Behind me, the temple caught fire. I could have put out the fire by pissing on it.